


Cold Dark Night

by ETraytin



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Reference to Alcohol Use, Snowbound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:57:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8655124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETraytin/pseuds/ETraytin
Summary: A sudden snowstorm leaves the staffers of the Bartlet Administration stranded at work for the night. It's not the first night they've spent in the West Wing, and at least tonight they have supplies laid in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Black Friday, everybody! This is just a little fic to tide you over as you and I digest leftover turkey and search for a warm place to sleep for three or four days. I feel like the second part of the fic could easily be fleshed out a lot more, but it would make a five page story into a ten page story and I haven't got that kind of time! Maybe someday I will go back and rewrite it. Until that day, hope you enjoy this anyhow. I will be back on the road tomorrow, so if there is a fic, expect it to crop up late in the evening.

Josh stuck his head through CJ's doorway at a little past eight that evening. “It's really coming down out there,” he commented, looking out her window. 

“Oh, you finally caught on to that?” CJ asked blandly, not looking up from her computer. “It's only been snowing for three hours. Sam was past here at five-thirty, practically banging on a tin drum to make sure everybody noticed the snow.” 

“Well yeah, but I mean, it's really coming down,” he repeated, walking into her office and brushing past her to get a better look at the outdoor scene. “And as a native of Connecticut, I feel infinitely more qualified to judge that than California hothouse flowers like you and Sam.” 

“I grew up in Dayton,” CJ reminded him. “I've seen snow before, even if most people in DC drive like they never have. Are you heading out?” 

“Are you kidding?” Josh scoffed. “I haven't even finished all my meetings for the day. I've got Stackhouse in half an hour, wanting to expand family leave provisions to explicitly include autism issues, and then I've got Matt Skinner who probably just wants to hassle me, then I've got-” 

“They're gonna cancel,” CJ told him. “Nobody's taking any meetings tonight.” 

“It's just snow,” Josh protested. “It's not going to shut down the government.” 

“Josh!” Donna sailed past CJ's doorway, wheeled when she saw him and came in, handing him a stack of message slips. “Stackhouse and Skinner both canceled, and the budget guy is stuck in Baltimore and wants to know if you can see him on Wednesday.” 

CJ smirked. Josh glared at her as he took the messages from Donna. “Tell the budget guy and Stackhouse we'll reschedule for Wednesday. Tell Matt he can bite me, and do not under any circumstances repeat any response he has to that.” Donna nodded and sped off. 

“Why is Donna still here?” CJ asked Josh after the tap-tap of Donna's heels faded. 

“Because it's only eight o'clock,” Josh replied blankly. “Where's Carol?” 

“I sent her home two hours ago,” CJ told him with a sigh of frustration. “Did you forget about the snow already?” 

“What's that got to do with anything?” 

“You understand that the senior assistants make under forty thousand dollars a year, right?” CJ quizzed. “And that most of them aren't married or living with anyone to share expenses? They don't live in Georgetown and drive reliable cars. The metro's already shut down for the weather, how's Donna supposed to get home?” 

Josh blustered to cover the fact that he had not, in fact, thought of that. “I'll give her a ride myself,” he insisted. “I have a great car for snow. Four-wheel drive and heated seats.” 

“That might not matter,” Sam swung abruptly into the room, already fully involved in the conversation. “The Secret Service says that the highway patrol is closing roads all over the city. There's already been a dozen accidents, so even the cars on the roads aren't going anywhere.” He grinned at them both. “So, apropos of nothing, are you going to be using your couch tonight, CJ?” 

She grimaced. “Apparently so. Sounds like we'll all be camping out this evening. Hope there's still some food available down in the mess.” 

“We'll just find some place that delivers,” Josh suggested offhandedly. 

“The roads are closed,” CJ reminded him. “Nobody's delivering.” 

Josh furrowed his brow. “That's ridiculous. When I was at Harvard, we had a storm that closed the school for three days and the pizza place never stopped delivering.” 

Sam winced. “I hope you tipped that poor guy well.” 

Josh grinned. “We were drunk off our asses the entire time and he was bringing us food. The guy probably made his monthly salary in three days just in tips.” 

“Alcohol!” CJ exclaimed suddenly, looking unhappy. 

“Yeah, that makes being snowed in go a lot faster,” Josh reminisced. “You think the President has any beer in the Residence?” 

“Probably not that he's willing to-” Sam began, but CJ broke in. 

“I have three hundred dollars worth of alcohol in the trunk of my car, and it's going to freeze if I don't do something with it.” CJ was obviously not pleased with this state of affairs. 

“Got a hot date planned?” Josh asked, eyebrows raised. 

She glared at him. “It's for a bachelorette party, if you must know. I'm supposed to be a bridesmaid, but they let me out of any of the planning so long as I brought the booze. Since this is the White House and everything that can go wrong will, I bought it early, and now it's going to freeze.” 

“Ah, you tempted the wrath of the whatever,” Sam remarked wisely, and caught the weight of CJ's glare as well. 

“Wait a minute, isn't one of the things about alcohol that it's not supposed to freeze?” Josh asked. “I have a bottle of vodka in my freezer that's not even slushy.” 

“Well if I had three hundred dollars worth of cheap vodka I'd be fine,” CJ replied sourly. “But I've got beer and wine in there, plus various mixers, and I know for a fact that those will freeze if it's cold enough. I wonder if homeowner's insurance covers something like this.” 

“Or,” Sam suggested, “we could jump to the obvious and perfect solution to all our problems.” 

Josh caught on instantly, because he and Sam were very in tune when it came to things like this. “It's both smart and chivalrous,” he agreed, and extended a hand to CJ. “Give me your keys.” 

“What for?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Sam and I are going to save your alcohol,” Josh declared. “We'll go out to the parking lot and bring it in here before it has a chance to freeze. Of course, it might be too late for some of it. It could be ruined and unfit for your party.” 

Sam grinned broadly. “We'd get rid of that for you.” 

CJ gave them a very flat look. “So what you're saying is, the two of you are going to go and get the drinks out of my car, bring them into the White House, and drink them.” 

“Toby will probably help,” Sam offered. 

“Time's a-wasting,” Josh observed. “Those beers are going to get skunked. Come on,” he chivvied CJ with a grin. “The press corps is gone, there are no interns around whose morals we can corrupt, and what else are we supposed to do? It'll be like old times, back on the campaign when we used to have fun.” 

CJ sighed. “Fine,” she agreed, her voice annoyed but a little smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Just take it all down to the couch room, I don't want any janitors spreading stories about a midnight West Wing bacchanalia. We'll meet up down there at ten, listen to some music, and see if Josh still gets drunk off three light beers. Just like old times.” 

“Hey!” Josh protested, but Sam was smart enough to grab the keys and go. 

“And I expect everybody to chip in for replacement costs, you cheapskates!” she called after them. 

 

By eleven pm, the snow was still falling in Washington DC, but in fits and starts that gave emergency services hope that the snowplows would soon start showing some effect. For the meantime, the city was locked down, and the folks who ran the country were tucked in a chilly basement corner of the West Wing, getting plastered on bachelorette booze. Leo had no interest in their get-together for obvious reasons and had taken himself off to the Residence to impose on the hospitality of his best friends, along with Charlie, who was intent on staying at his post by the President until he wasn't needed anymore.

The rest of the senior staff were gathered in the couch room, as was Donna, who as predicted had not been able to make it home. She had punished Josh for that by stealing his suit jacket and putting it on over her own blouse to make up for the chilliness of the couch room. Josh pretended not to care and just rubbed his hands over his arms once in awhile, even as he wondered silently if it was possible to catch pneumonia indoors. CJ had wrapped herself in one of the blankets still folded in the corner from the room's days as an emergency sleeping room, and Sam had unearthed a phenomenally ridiculous red Christmas sweater from somewhere that still managed to make him look like a spokesmodel. As far as anybody could tell, Toby never got cold. It might have had something to do with the alcohol. Despite his big talk earlier, Josh had no plans to drink much that night; in the West Wing he was at work, and something could always happen. 

Without a blender, CJ had to make do with grasshoppers on the rocks, but that didn't seem to dampen her festive spirits any. Crowning herself queen of Carol's liberated CD player, she turned the music up high to drown out the noise of the pipes around them and made first Sam, then Toby dance with her. Sam's cotillion training showed through clearly as he attempted to box-step to Michael Jackson, but Toby had some surprisingly smooth moves, at least when he was dancing close to CJ. They danced like people who'd been dancing together for a very long time, and even though she was quite a bit taller than him in her heels, somehow it didn't look at all awkward. 

Donna attempted to pull Josh into the fun, but he shook his head and demurred, content to nurse his second beer. He danced only when he had to, never for fun. She pouted for a minute before getting up anyway to dance with Sam, putting her hands on his shoulders, then his waist to try and loosen him up into more naturalistic dancing. It was only semi-successful, but got them both laughing like people who have drunk just enough to find a happy place. Josh watched them for a minute, then set his beer aside and pushed himself up from the couch to cut in, but just then CJ changed the music to The Jackal and dancing time was suspended. 

CJ in the West Wing and in front of a large audience still had a lot of press secretary in her when she performed. CJ in the basement, with a few drinks in her and in front of a few people she trusted, was a much different creature. Josh loved CJ like a sister, but when she draped herself along the couch, holding a beer bottle like a microphone to sing into, it became obvious how much of her height was in her extremely well-toned legs. Next to him, Sam looked like he'd been hit by a fast-pitch softball to the temple, so Josh didn't feel quite as bad. Toby just looked smug, in a way that made Josh wonder things he really didn't want to know the answer to. Donna led the cheers and whistles at the end, seemingly oblivious to any undercurrents. Of course, she'd worked a fourteen hour day, consumed a grasshopper and several beers, and weighed approximately nothing, so Josh expected she was probably oblivious to a lot of things right now. 

On the campaign trail, the second half of any drinking night would be the talking part, semi-coherent conversations about politics and culture, or family history, or whatever anybody had on their minds. The only reason any of his friends knew more about Joanie than his therapist did was because of those drunken confessionals. Tonight, though, nobody seemed in much of a mood to talk. Maybe they were just too tired, maybe they all talked all day long and there seemed to be nothing left to say. Charlie came in just as things were starting to settle down and told them that the roads would be cleared by morning. They gave him a beer and he sat down with them, just being together in the deep, cool quiet of the basement. 

Donna was sitting next to Josh, something so usual and natural that he didn't even think about it until she leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder. Even that wasn't totally uncommon, except for the way she was playing with the buttons on his shirt. He looked around at their friends, but nobody seemed to notice anything. Most of them were half-asleep or better on the couches that gave the room its name. He covered her hand with his to stop the playing anyway, a little worried that even though he'd behaved himself tonight when it came to alcohol, other temptations might make it too easy to get carried away. She didn't seem to mind much, flexing her fingers once under his and then closing her eyes to sleep. He looked up again and caught Charlie watching then with a wry smile. Josh shrugged his one free shoulder, then rested his cheek against Donna's hair and went to sleep himself, wishing with his last semi-conscious thought for a few more snowy nights.


End file.
